Left Brain, Right Brain
by 2muchofagoodthing
Summary: SG1 was ordered to develop the right side of their brain by participating in Operation Muse. But will they be equal to the challenge? A little SamJack.
1. Chapter 1

**Left Brain, Right Brain**

**Chapter 1: The Charge**

SG-1 gathered in the briefing room, waiting for General Hammond.

He entered the room, carrying what appeared to be booklets of some kind, and set them down on the table. Their curiosity was piqued.

"Listen up, people," began the General. "I'm sure all of you are aware of the concept of the right and left sides of the brain. As you know, the military is very much attuned to things that are logical and factual – the left side. And that's how it should be – couldn't be any other way. However, studies have proven the worth of developing the right side of brain -- the creative side. Apparently doing so enhances interpersonal skills, amongst other things."

Everyone glanced at each other, puzzled. Not like any "ordinary" meeting, this one.

The General continued. "Seems like poetry can be a useful tool, so..." here he paused to pass out the booklets... "the Air Force Office of Interpersonal Relations has directed each Stargate team to participate in a special project – 'Operation Muse.'"

Jack picked up the booklet in front of him. It read, "The Poetry in All of Us." "Sir, with all due respect, is this a joke?"

"Afraid not, Colonel. One week from today, at 19:00 hours, you, and all your team, will be required to present, orally, either one medium-length or two short poems, here in this meeting room. It must be your original work."

Jack sent his copy spinning across the table. "This is by far the most idiotic, the most asinine thing I've ever heard of...Sir."

The General's level voice continued. "Son, I know how you feel. This seemed like the most damned silly thing I ever heard of, too, at first. Still does, in fact. However, we have no choice. The directive has been given. My advice is for you to get the most you can out of the assignment. Just might help with inter-planetary diplomacy, if you catch my drift." Everyone looked at Jack.

"Whaat?" said Jack.

"Since it's been years, in some cases many years, since any of you sat in Literature 101, I suggest you read and make use of that book," Hammond said, nodding in the direction of Jack's copy at the far end of the table.

"Sir, I've already made up a poem that I'd like to share."

"Colonel?"

"Roses are red, violets are blue, this thing's really stupid, and a pile of crap, too."

"Dismissed!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Creative Process**

The next week was relatively uneventful: they relocated the inhabitants of one planet, made preliminary contact with another. Which was just as well, since they needed time for their projects.

"O'Neill, I am unfamiliar with this word," said Teal'c. Jack ignored him. Not his territory.

"Get Daniel. He knows all about literary stuff."

Daniel looked over Teal'c's shoulder. "Oh, haiku. It's haiku, T'ealc. A form of poetry. It's got three lines, each consisting of a specific number of syllables -- five in the first line, seven in the second, and five again in the last line. It talks about it here," said Daniel, pointing to page six.

"I see."

"Haiku is usually written about nature," explained Daniel.

Teal'c lowered the booklet quickly, his eyes narrowing. "I am a warrior and I do not see the purpose of writing about such inconsequential things as trees and birds, Daniel Jackson," he said testily. His jaw muscles were twitching, always a bad sign.

"Well, I'm sure you, you know, could write about anything you wanted. Like, about being a warrior, for instance."

"About kicking ass," suggested O'Neill, not looking up from his comic book.

Teal'c pondered this for a moment, then bowed his head slightly. "I am greatly in your debt."

For Daniel, inspiration often came late at night while engaged in solitary archeological pursuits; as for Sam, it didn't really blossom until close to the deadline.

Vala, on the other hand, had no problem. She tortured Daniel by bringing every "inspired" idea, word or phrase to his attention. He finally locked himself in his office to get away, but could still hear, albeit in a muffled voice, "Daniel...Daniel? I think I've got something really fantastic going on here!" Thankfully, all this would be over in a few days.

And Jack? Jack did nothing with his assignment, as far as anyone else could see. No one dared ask about his progress, either.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Presentation**

As commanded, SG-1 was ready with their assignments at exactly 19:00 hours on Thursday.

A member of SG command was there as well. "Walter heard about the poetry project and, although he's not required to participate, since he's not on any of the teams, I saw no reason to prohibit him from joining us," explained General Hammond. "He wanted to go first. Walter?"

Walter nodded a "hello" to the team, cleared his throat, and began. "It's called 'Stargate.'

Chevron one, encoded!

The stargate started 'round,

Chevron three, encoded!

It shook the very ground.

Chevron five, encoded!

Wisps of steam curled.

Chevron seven, LOCKED!

The water-wall unfurled."

_He paused for effect, then motioned with one hand..._

"WHOOSH!"

After the polite applause ceased, he explained, "I know I left out stuff, but I thought it sounded better that way. Did you like the ending?" he asked anxiously.

"It was very good, Walter," praised Daniel warmly.

"Thank you for sharing, Walter. You write well about a subject with which you are intimately acquainted. I will note in your personnel file that you volunteered freely," said the General. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." Walter was beaming.

"Ewww, can I be next? Can I be next?" It was Vala, waving her hand in the air.

General Hammond nodded.

She stood. "I have two little goodies. The first one is called 'Relations.' Here goes.

I haven't a father,

I haven't a mother,

I haven't a sister,

Or even a brother.

You are now my family,

Precious members of SGC.

I thank you now for taking me in

So we could go for a stargate spin.

Committed to the Taure,

I, Vala, will forever be.

And that's the way I feel about all of you. Family. Except you, Daniel – that would be naughty," she added, giving him a wink. She plunked back down in her seat, ponytails bouncing. She popped back up again. "I've got another, actually, but I'm not going to tell the title. You'll have to guess after. You did say it didn't have to rhyme, right, Daniel?" He nodded. "Okay, here goes.

I take it in my mouth, feeling the smooth firmness.

I prod it with my tongue, tasting its sweetness.

I roll it around and around,

Taking little bites.

It melts.

Now, can anyone guess what it's all about?"

"Blue Jello?" ventured Carter.

"Daniel, you told!"

"Didn't!"

She pouted.

The General cleared his throat loudly and meaningfully. "Major? Please share."

Carter stood. "When we were given this assignment, Sir, my mind just went blank. Then I thought, well, maybe I should write about someone...who meant a lot to me, who's still on my mind a lot. So I did." She paused.

"Major?"

"The problem is, Sir, it's in the form of a letter."

"That's all right, Major. I'll excuse that, as I have already made an exception for Dr. Jackson, who contacted me several days ago," said General Hammond. The important thing is that you exercised the right side of your brain, as ordered. By the way, people, you may be relieved to know that none of your written work, poetry or otherwise, will be leaving this base. What's written here, stays here."

She began: "Dear Janet, It seems so long since you've been gone, since that staff blast cut short your precious life much, much too early. We all miss you, and we'll never forget you. We want you to know that. You dressed our wounds, mended our egos, and even saved our lives, all the while putting up with our less-than-perfect, sometimes even juvenile, behavior. You knew us inside-and-out, and loved us anyway." Carter's voice caught a little. She rushed to finish. "You were a talented physician, a devoted mom, and dear friend to all. If I manage to become even half the woman you were here on earth, it will be a great accomplishment. If you can hear me, anywhere out there in this huge universe, know this..._we love you_."

Total silence. After what seemed an eternity, the General spoke, softly, "Thank you, Major. I believe you spoke for all of us. Nice writing."

Then, "Teal'c? Your turn."

The Jaffa rose, garbed in ceremonial robes in honor of the occasion. "These are haiku. Haiku do not possess names," he explained. Then he intoned,

"Braetak, warrior,

Leader of all free Jaffa.

He falls. He dies well."

"That's impressive, son. You have another?" Teal'c nodded.

"Teal'c, warrior,

Strong and fearless, mighty man.

Indeed, he kicks ass."

Spontaneous and unanimous applause broke out. He bowed low.

"Way to go, 'T'!" called out O'Neill.

Carter noticed a border around Daniel's paper. She leaned closer. They were stargate addresses, done in ink, beautifully executed. "Calligraphy?" she asked. He nodded.

"Dr. Jackson?" said General Hammond.

Daniel stood. "Before I share what I've written, I'd like to give a little background. We've been involved in 'Operation Muse.' In Greek mythology, the Muses were nine goddesses believed to inspire all artists, especially poets, philosophers, and musicians. From them we get our word, 'musing,' which means, among others things, reflection, ponderings, and recollection."

He stopped for a moment. "I've been doing some personal "musings" for quite some time, now. I've been told I'm intelligent, strong and caring. And while I do hold a phD, I have seen wisdom that far exceeds that of my own in the eyes of a child. My strength – physical, emotional, and spiritual – has often faltered in the face of adversity. I couldn't save my beloved wife Sha're. I "failed the test," so to speak, as an ascended. But in that, at least, I failed in a positive sense -- because I cared. It pained me deeply when I couldn't help Jack, knowing the cycle of torture he endured. And finally, I did too much, and was thrown down, sent back to living my life as a non-ascended. All this, understandably, has given me reason to ponder – to ponder what I want to do, what I want to accomplish, and, perhaps the most important thing of all, the kind of person I want to be from now on. It has given me fresh resolve. I came across a quote once: 'I am only one person, but I am one. And I will do what I can.' And so I will."

Sam touched Daniel's shoulder lightly.

"Thank you, Dr. Jackson. You have certainly given us all some food for thought," said Hammond. Then he turned to Jack.

"Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack slowly and reluctantly got to his feet. "General, as you know, I was not too keen about this whole...well...touchy-feely project. But, like Major Carter here, I latched on to something I really wanted to write about. And I did." His fingers played with the sealed envelope in his hands.

"Continue," prompted the General.

"I wrote something...a poem... but it's personal." He paused. "And I'm not going to read it aloud," said Jack, simply. "It's here in the envelope, sir."

"Colonel O'Neill, the directive, and my direct order, was that the creative piece be read aloud. Refusal to do so could be viewed as a deliberate act of insubordination!" He was getting worked up, which he always did when Jack disobeyed orders.

Jack had a "well, what can I say?" look on his face.

"Colonel O'Neill, just what am I supposed to do with you?" asked The General, rhetorically. He was fond of Jack, despite his many faults. He sighed heavily, shaking his head and finally giving up.

"People, you've all worked hard, and deserve a break. I am now inviting – not ordering, mind you, but inviting – you to O'Malley's Bar and Grill for a few beers. Operation Muse is picking up the tab. You're invited, too, Walter. Dismissed!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Celebrate!**

Sam had determined which hat Teal'c was going to wear, and all of them followed suit by donning black knitted caps. Even General Hammond.

Once at the tavern, which was surprisingly crowded for mid-week, they really "let their hair down" and partied. Even Teal'c displayed a lack of decorum, although he wasn't able to blame his brew – ginger ale – for it.

The gang completely monopolized one of the pool tables. Several times Carter "whupped" them soundly, eliciting low whistles and congrats from everyone but O'Neill. He always hated to lose.

The comrades-at-arms swapped stories with relish, usually but not always remembering to edit them for classified information, although considering the din of the tavern, most likely no one would've heard anything. Or believed the stories if they had heard.

Reliving the Tok'ra armband incident was a given, of course. "Remember the face on that waitress when we ordered three..." here Daniel silently corrected him, holding up four fingers ... "four steak dinners each?" said Jack, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Yeah, well, how about the look on the face of that guy who called me 'Geek,' when I sent him flying across the room?" reminisced Daniel with relish.

"None of those guys knew what hit them," added Sam. "We really kicked butt together that night."

The General could've offered his side of the story, the strings he had to pull to get the charges dropped, the aggravation and the paperwork. But he didn't. After all, they had been under the influence of alien technology and could hardly be held accountable for their actions.

Closing time came all too soon for this bunch. Out in the parking lot...

"Carter!" Jack called out. She turned. "Got something here for you, a copy of what I gave Hammond." He pressed the folded square of paper into her palm. "Let me know what you think," he added.

She nodded. "Yes, sir, I'll check it out."

Was he looking for a critique? Or, considering what had happened, or rather didn't happen, at the meeting, was something else going on?

Sam thought about this all the way home. In fact, she thought of nothing else. As soon as she hit the first light in her house, she quickly unfolded the paper. The title popped out at her.

**No Time for Us**

Time, time, time and again

get those g'oulds, get all of 'em.

No time for us.

Time for torture, time for death.

Run for it, can't catch your breath.

No time for us.

Help those people relocate,

Quickly now, right through the gate.

No time for us.

Always bad guys on the scene,

Super bad and super mean –

So no time for us.

Time to save the world (and, Babe, you are my world), but...

No time for us.

Her eyes brimmed with tears. One dropped on Jack's scrawled signature, sinking into the paper and spreading the ink. Then she noticed the p.s. – "_Let's talk," _with a tiny heart penned next to it.

Slowly, she refolded the paper and slid it into her pants pocket, her hand holding it close against her side. _We will._

2


End file.
